


That boy, with his suits and his robes.

by hanbunnotsuki



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 15:29:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10193045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanbunnotsuki/pseuds/hanbunnotsuki
Summary: A short fic based on the prompt “That boy, with his suits and his robes.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I hit the prompt-generator for ideas for a drabble I meant to write as a warm up before writing my unfinished fic, but then I ended up liking the result a lot more than I thought I would. It's my first YOI fic, and I'm still not confident writing the characters in it, but I hope I did them justice.
> 
> And uh, I didn't do much research regarding figure skating championships and all and I only briefly mentioned it, but if it feels off or anything, feel free to mention it!!

“Ugh. I feel so gross. I’m grabbing a shower first.” The moment Yuri enters the room he peels off his suit, leaving piece after piece on the floor in his wake.

“You’ll leave creases on them.” Otabek gently reproaches, though already kneeling to pick the garment up.

A non-committal grunt from Yuri makes him rolls his eyes, but he still hangs the suit meticulously into the wardrobe. A small smile tugs at Otabek’s mouth, despite the slight exasperation tingling in his chest.

Yuri Plisetsky is by no means a sloppy man. Otabek is fully aware of that.

Having had the privilege to visit, Otabek has witnessed with his own eyes the tidy nooks and crannies of Yuri’s room. Take Yuri’s closet, for example. There’s a side for his training outfits, one for his coveted feline-print clothings, one for formal wear he dons at events and costumes for competitions, and not to forget, one for comfy pajama pants Yuri so loves to collect.

The point is, it is not very much like Yuri to just scatter his clothes like he did for no reason.

And that, Otabek can make a few guesses.

Shaking himself out of his musing, Otabek slips off his suit jacket and loosens his tie. The impromptu dance-off at tonight’s banquet has made him work up quite the sweat, though not as much as Yuri, who jumped at the chance to battle Yuuri Katsuki. He says impromptu, but it has become a tradition, whenever the banquet gathers the right members.

He sits down at the edge of the bed, torn between joining his boyfriend for a shower or to wait patiently for his turn.

Before he can decide, the door to the bathroom opens to reveal a bathrobe-clad Yuri, droplets after droplets of water cascading from his hair. Yuri’s expression is neutral, but his gaze is expecting.

“Come over here.” Otabek shifts from his initial position, so that Yuri can sit on the space between his thighs. The Russian does so, and Otabek starts drying his dripping wet hair with the towel dangling around his neck.

Yuri Plisetsky may not be a sloppy man, but he does like being fussed over by his long-distance boyfriend.

And Otabek likes fussing over his Yuri, seeing how seldom he has the chance to do it in person. With the two of them concentrating on the preparation for the championship, they had to shave away some time they usually set aside for each other. Between missed video calls and sporadic exchange of messages, Yuri’s been whining about feeling like a tragic heroine and it’s saying something when Otabek almost agrees with his boyfriend’s dramatics.

They have all the time to spoil each other now that the championship is over.

Said boyfriend still has not uttered a word as Otabek chases the last droplets of water running down his neck. Not a man of many words himself, Otabek doesn’t try to fill the silence. With Yuri, the absence of sound feels peaceful and companionable, and never awkward.

“There, I’m done. Though I still think you should properly dry it off.”

“Can’t be bothered.” Yuri starts to grumble, leaning back to snuggle up to Otabek. He can feel his smile growing, and not minding Yuri’s still damp hair, he hugs the other man closer. The hotel’s bathrobe is very soft to touch. “I can’t believe I only medaled bronze today.”

Ah. There it is.

“Well, Yuuri Katsuki did give a very solid performance.” Though still pouting like a petulant child, Yuri manages to mumble an assent.

“And you did too, Beka.” Turning around to return Otabek’s hug, Yuri’s eyes are shining with pride. “You were  _ awesome _ .”

“Thanks.” Otabek’s silver medal is still tucked inside his suit jacket, and he makes a small reminder to himself to pack it properly tomorrow. “You were really graceful out there.”

An unattractive snort escapes the blond Russian, and Otabek stops his sudden impulse to laugh. A punch from Yuri Plisetsky is something he’d rather avoid.

“Graceful. Sure, if you can call flailing around the ice  _ graceful _ .”

Yuri’s growing limbs have given him some trouble, a problem Otabek is sure almost all figure skaters can relate to. Yuri being Yuri, of course grits his teeth and throws his all to force them into submission, but there is only so much one can do when their body is at its rebellious peak.

And despite all that, Yuri still managed to obtain bronze.

Not only graceful, but also dedicated. Passionate. His Yuri, always so beautiful even while struggling with his growing body.

“I still think you were dazzling. And you also beat JJ.”

As expected, Yuri perks up at the mention of his win over JJ, a blinding grin suddenly stretches across his face. “Hell yeah I did!” He shifts from his position to climb up the bed and roll to the other side, face down, one eye peeking at Otabek’s amused face. 

“...come snuggle with me?”

The phrase shoots Otabek straight to the heart.

And as much as he wants to just do that right now and surrender his consciousness to Yuri’s warmth, he really does need that shower. Damn it all.

“How about you think of the things you want to do for tomorrow while I take a shower? Then, we can snuggle as much as you’d like.”

Tomorrow is their customary post-competition date, and though Otabek’s got a few ideas of what to do, he always welcomes Yuri’s opinion and looks forward to incorporate both of their ideas into one. Either way, it will be a lovely day because he will be spending it with Yuri.

“Make it quick then! Hurry!”

A soft laugh escapes his lips at his boyfriend’s impatience, and Otabek closes the bathroom door behind him.


End file.
